


Morning Glory

by Val_Creative



Series: Language of Flowers Femslash Feb 2021 [27]
Category: Tomie, Tomie - All Media Types, Tomie - Junji Ito - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Canon, Canon-Typical Violence, Drama & Romance, During Canon, F/F, Femslash, Femslash February, Femslash February 2021, Horror, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Mild Blood, Minor Injuries, Sexist Language, Tomie Is A Lesbian, Tomie Is Sapphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-19 05:35:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29745762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Val_Creative/pseuds/Val_Creative
Summary: "Death will treat you more kindly than it does me."
Relationships: Kawakami Tomie/Mrs. Takagi (Tomie - Boy)
Series: Language of Flowers Femslash Feb 2021 [27]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2138865
Comments: 9
Kudos: 6
Collections: Femslash February





	Morning Glory

**Author's Note:**

> Once again it is my contractual obligation as a gay to pair Tomie with every women possible,,,, and for once, Tomie doesn't die in this! We love to see it! If you love Tomie, I hope you enjoy this! Any thoughts/comments you have are welcomed too!
> 
> _Note: Morning Glory - The Duality of Love and Mortality_

*

She's frightened.

Mrs. Takagi considers herself a fair and loving mother. She does not blame Satoru for wandering off. Any mother would show concern if her son came home late, distraught and covered in a layer of filth. Satoru's pants reek of sour, mildewy water.

The woman.

Tomie.

Satoru called her _Tomie!_ with feverishly bright eyes. _M_ _ommy, I love her! I love her most!_

_I love her more than YOU!_

_Mommy! Mommy, let me go! It hurts!_

_Tomie loves ME, too!_

Her husband insists on tying Satoru's wrists with his big, brown belt and confining him to his room. He mustn't try to escape again. Mrs. Takagi reluctantly agrees, leaving her purse at home and brushing out her hair and marching down to the cove.

She's frightened, but it won't stop her from confronting Tomie.

It's a blistering cold day. The dark blue-black waves crest in frothing white, rumbling and pouring onto the beach. It's there she finds Tomie standing with her dainty arms stretched up wide-open. All of her skin has cut marks, half-healed and pinkened.

"Where's my Satoru?" Tomie murmurs, her eyes a shiny, milky white. No pupils or irises.

Even while monstrous, she's beautiful.

"He is not yours. I am Satoru's mother." Mrs. Takagi frowns. "I am asking you to leave him and our family alone."

_"Teehee~"_

"Are you listening to me, Tomie?"

It's her name spoken aloud that shifts Tomie's disposition. She lowers her arms in the wind. "You're too _old_ to be a mother, or someone's wife," Tomie says haughtily, crinkling her nose and grinning with a dark and menacing air. "You're practically a hag."

Mrs. Takagi's lips quiver together.

Out of the handful of neighborhood mothers, she was considered the youngest at twenty-five years old. Her husband's coworkers envied him for a wife so docile and obedient and patient. Even after carrying Satoru, Mrs. Takagi remained very thin.

But, she realizes _nothing_ compares to Tomie. All of that passionate and cruel loveliness.

Looking at her angers Mrs. Takagi, paining her and thrilling her. Tomie's pale skin must be soft as satin. She must be warm, inside and out, and Mrs. Takagi feels a stab of horrified lust for imagining Tomie's full lips caressing up Mrs. Takagi's neck.

In the sunlight, Tomie's lightweight cotton voile turns sheer and exposes her long, shapely legs. She's radiant. A goddess born of Mrs. Takagi's misery — a dark, unfamiliar entity reminding her of the failure of quelling desire for others. The rosy-purple chrysanthemum print flutters against her too-thin thighs. It must another fine dress that Satoru stole for Tomie.

Mrs. Takagi imagines elbowing Tomie onto the sharp, slippery rocks under their feet. Her head cracking open like a bloody egg. She imagines grasping her hands to that pale throat, wringing down, choking Tomie until hot spittle emerges from her lips.

"There it is…" Tomie murmurs, lurching into Mrs. Takagi's face with her eyes staring so wide that they bulge. As if she recognizes _something_ between them. "Yes… even in women, it's there. You want to kill me… you want to love me and claim me as yours with your body… you won't rest until I am dead… but you see I _cannot_ and you _cannot_ break my influence…"

"No…"

Tomie giggles, and Mrs. Takagi blinks rapidly and shakes her head in disbelief.

"I am calling the police…"

She steps away. Tomie clutches onto her arm, giggling out a _"teehee~!"_ and smacking her mouth gleefully against the other woman's. It burns. Tomie kisses her ferociously, raking her fingers into the short, messy bob of Mrs. Takagi's hair.

When Mrs. Takagi yanks herself back, she gasps and teeters over the cove's tide-pools. Their waters red and stinking like rot.

Tomie pulls onto Mrs. Takagi's plain shirt-collar, keeping her upright. "I wish I could go with you forever," Tomie whispers, breathing hard and eyeing Mrs. Takagi's face with a solemn sadness. "Death will treat you more kindly than it does me."

_"TOMIE!"_

With a peck of lips, Tomie lets go. Mrs. Takagi feels herself hitting the water, quickly submerging and choking on red rot…

Forever…

*


End file.
